


With a Little Help From My Friends

by aactionjohnny



Series: Pete/Billy [4]
Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Drinking, Friendship, M/M, Revelations, Season 7 Spoilers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16664323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aactionjohnny/pseuds/aactionjohnny
Summary: Pete and Billy are at the penthouse for their weekly bro-session with Rusty. But Rusty returns from dinner with Dean bearing some very important news about himself. The two of them have to work together to help their friend deal with his identity crisis.





	1. Gin without a tonic

It feels too good, like they’ve moved up in the world. After years of being there for him, Rusty has finally let them in. Finally admits they’re friends, and irrevocably. Thus they sit grinning at his penthouse bar, mixing gin with all manner of accessory, girding themselves against the inevitable monstrosities Rusty will make when he gets home. They have the keys. They have the places they sit and the spare room they sleep in.

_ What an asshole _ , they think. It took all this money and fame to get him to act like their friend. 

“Do not let me get as shitfaced as I did last time, White,” Billy says, stirring his drink with the little plastic lance. It’s some shaken concoction with juice and wine. Pink as Pete’s shirt. 

“I’m not your mother, pal,” Pete tells him, muffled by the tumbler from which he sips. “You just gotta learn to control yourself.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get vomit out of your jacket?” 

Pete shrugs. Grinning, giddy from the beginning of a buzz. It’s become a Friday night tradition, this. Coming to Rusty’s, drinking until their too-old bodies tell them it’s time to rest. 

“He’s late,” Billy laments, leaning his head in his hand. He’s still so stuck in his idol-worship, and even he knows it. His head’s stuck with his body. Down low, seeming young. 

“What else is new? At least he’s got an excuse this time.”

“He does?”

“Dinner with Dean. Kid has a _ job  _ now, ya know. Rust says he insisted on payin’.”

“It seems like only yesterday he was crying on my operating table…” They snort, remembering their plight. Poor kid… “Dean’s not...he’s not coming, right?”

“Why ya so worried?” Pete asks, adjusting his posture on the padded barstool. He can never quite figure out how to get comfortable there.

“Rusty always gets so drunk, you know? Last time he did that he uh...said some things. Things I don’t think Dean wanted to hear.”

Pete shrugs yet again. He supposes it’s better than keeping secrets…

“Like he could ever top _ ‘your brother boned the same girl as me and that  _ tank _ of a teenager Dermot is your half-brother… _ ’”

“...maybe you’re right. But it’s  _ Rusty _ we’re talking about. He’s got no shortage of upsetting things in his head.”

They toast to that, tapping their glasses together. Falling silent, they grin. Letting the first signs of tipsy behavior fall upon them, they feel brave, sweet. Their knees touch as they sit. It’s been slow-going. Like they’re still in denial. A kiss here, a long embrace there. They brim with want, but isn’t it so much easier just to stay this way? All coy and mooning? Pete bites his lower lip.

“Ya know...he _ is _ always late…” He settles a hand on Billy’s knee, squeezing gently, noting how his leg seems to shake. 

“You’re such a lech, White.”

“Oh!” He presses a pale hand to his chest. “I guess I am just so hideous ya want nothin’ to do with me!”

“That’s not--” Billy bats his arm with the back of his metal hand. “Sorry. I’m just...not used to it. This.”

“Me neither…” He takes that robotic hand in his and squeezes. “C’mon, though. It’s nothin’ Rust doesn’t already suspect.”

Pete leans down, taking Billy’s hand to his heart, kissing him with the subtle sloppiness of a man soaked in only two shots of gin, and he’s thrilled to feel some give against his affections. It’s all so new. So teenage and enthralling, they feel almost foolish when it takes them over. Their drinks forgotten, fumbling with one another as if their friend won’t walk in at any moment.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake--”

They’re stymied, gripping at one another’s collars and turning their heads to the door. It’s Rusty, of course, leaning heavy against the doorframe, pointing at them in accusation.

“This is supposed to be a  _ friends’  _ night, not a Rusty is the third wheel night!” he slurs, lazily slamming the door behind him and staggering over.

“Jesus Christ, Rust, did Dean break the bank on drinks for ya?” Pete asks, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and fixing his silvery swath of hair.

“Shh-shh!” Rusty says. “We both did. My boy got drunk!” After a beat. Dean comes stumbling in after him, fists clenched. Clearly he’s ever experienced this sensation before. “He has a fake ID! Like a regular ol’...a regular ol’ hoodlum!” Rusty tosses an arm over Dean’s shoulder and laughs.

Pete and Billy exchange an entertained, if concerned, glance.

“White d’you…’member... “ Rusty makes his way behind the bar with Dean in tow. Billy is too flabbergasted to try and stop him from mixing more drinks, Pete too busy trying not to laugh. “In college, your fake ID? It was from a truck driver with bleached hair?”

“Really, pop?” Dean asks, groping for a bottle of wine. Of course that’s what he drinks. He just has to keep it classy.

“What did you have to do to get that, White? Billy, did you know…” Rusty snorts, finding a glass for his son. 

“Rust, ya need to sit down…”

“There will be no sitting!” he commands, pointing at the two of them with a corkscrew. They flinch, hands instinctively clasping together. “I have just received the most important information! From my son…”

“He’s gay--” Pete guesses.

“He’s dropping out of college--” Billy gasps.

“No! No...right, Dean?” 

“No! I’m--”

Rusty shushes him, bidding him to go round the bar and sit beside his friends.

Holding desperately onto the drink shaker, he continues.

“Did you guys know I’m a  _ clone? _ ” he asks, an uncanny grin on his face. Without breaking eye contact, he finds the ingredients to one of his doc-tails, nodding the whole time. He shakes the concoction with a sort of possessed madness, leaving Pete and Billy staring with their mouths agape. “Yup! Dr. Venture Senior couldn’t have just one! Oh no, he needed multiple Rusty Venture: Boy Adventurers to torment!”

“Pop....” Dean says sadly, pouring himself a glass of wine. “I shouldn’t...have said…”

“No, no, boy. It’s…” Rusty sighs, resting his forehead on the counter, leaving the drink shaker to stew on the counter.

Pete and Billy look to one another once again, frightened looks on their faces. They’re not sure how else to handle it...not sure what else they can do but lift the shaker and pour the cocktail swiftly into a glass and slide it back to Rusty. If there was ever a time to get shitfaced...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't have a clear outline for the plot of this but...........listen idk ok


	2. It’s Love’s Illusions I Recall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rusty’s lament.

 

The room is filled with the whir of the air conditioning and the quiet tone of Joni Mitchell from the stereo.  _ I’ve looked at life from both sides now… _ this is what happens when you put it on shuffle, Pete had warned. You risk bringing down the mood, and hard.

Eventually, Rusty lifts his head from the bar and grumbles as he takes his drink in hand, staring into it like there’s a solution at the bottom. 

“I shouldn’t have told you…” Dean repeats, swirling his wine glass, gazing down with the same lost, regretful look. It’s almost startling how they echo one another so perfectly. And now, it makes even more sense.

“No…” Rusty takes a generous sip, and Pete and Billy wince to see his throat bob as he gulps. Maybe this is a mistake… “It’s not your fault.” 

How rare, that kindness. It hollows out a pit in Pete’s chest. Like pity, sympathy. It makes him reach for Billy’s hand and squeeze. If ever there was something they are not emotionally equipped for, this is it. They can barely, ha,  _ say I love you right out loud. _

“Rust...let’s go sit down. We’ll uh...talk it out, a’right?” 

Billy nods in agreement, swiftly finishing his drink. Promptly he refills his glass from the bottle of wine that Dean pushes around with his skinny, nervous fingers. One drunk Venture is bad enough.  _ Someone _ has to be responsible, he figures, watching as Pete and Rusty amble over to the couch, arms lazily draped over one another’s shoulders, Pete doing the bulk of the work.

And a poor job he does, because as they descend the few stairs into the sunken lounge, Rusty stumbles, trips, falls without any grace at all. Onto his knees, and were he not hammered, it might have ended there. But he gives up and let’s his upper body fall flat against the carpet.

“Aw jeeze Rust—“ Pete mumbles, kneeling down to try and help him.

“Just leave me!” Rust shouts, muffled by the carpet.

“Not a chance, fella. Can...can you guys help me out?” Pete asks, turning just his head to look desperately at Dean and Billy. But Dean, he stumbles, staggers, flops already onto the couch. “Billy?”

“Nice job, Pete,” he scolds quietly, shuffling over to help Pete lift Rusty onto the couch. He fights them a bit, squirming to try and get back on the floor as if he belongs there. The couple exchanges another of their communicative glances and they nod, promptly sitting side by side on Rusty’s back and legs. There.

“Cruel and unusual punishment!” he protests, weakly holding up one finger like he can do a damn thing.

“Just hold still, Rusty,” Billy insists, trying to make himself heavy, sturdy. They aren’t the most effective paperweights, the two of them. Impossibly short and light as a feather.

“Dean, ya gotta tell us what’s goin’ on here. How do ya know your father’s a...clone?” Pete whispers the word as if it’s not already too late. Maybe he’s more drunk than he thought…

“Found out from Ben’s robot husband,” he says, as if that ought to be sufficient.

“Okay well now I just have  _ more  _ questions,” Billy says. With a sigh he turns his head to the pathetic sight of Rusty burying his face in throw pillows. The other questions can wait. “I mean...is it so surprising? You did it with your sons, too.”

“But…” he trails off, turning his head. Pete and Billy can tell that Rusty’s eyes land weakly on his son. “I had my reasons…” 

“Pop…” Dean whines softly, burying his head in his hands. “Not this again…”

“My father never loved me like I love you boys! He just did it to...to force me to keep living like he  _ knew…” _

Pete and Billy wince in unison. 

“Knew what, Rust?”

He stays quiet, closing his eyes like a dam against what they are sure is a cascade of tears. Dean chimes in, quieter than ever, hands gripping his wineglass like an anchor. 

“Knew that...if pop had the choice, he’d have just stayed dead…” Even as a kid. Living was just too hard, wasn’t it? And maybe, now that it’s easier…

“Aw c’mon Rust…” Pete offers no comfort, because he’s too tipsy to lie.  _ Your father loved you, he just was bad at showing it. Bad like me…  _ Sighing, he reaches around Billy’s back to press a hand between Rusty’s shoulders. “You’re still... _ you _ , ain’t ya?” 

“Whoever that is,” Rusty says, his voice hidden once again by a pillow.

“Oh alright, Bob Dylan, take it down a notch,” Billy says, suddenly stern despite the subtle trembling in his voice. “Did you sons go on a bender when they found out? No, they didn’t.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Pete agrees. Maybe tough love is the answer. He softly squeezes the fabric of Rusty’s speedsuit. His back is so bony, more than ever… 

“No, Dean just became a  _ goth _ ,” Rusty corrects. “And not the pastel kind like you, White…”

Dean, seeming dejected, groans and lays down on the couch in a defeated huff. If it wasn’t such a sorry sight, Pete would almost feel good about himself that he’s less of a mess than these two are right now. He bites the inside of his cheeks, utterly at a loss. He’s never been good at fixing these crises. He could stub his toe and turn to booze or coke, at one point in his life. And he’s not much better now. And poor Billy, seeing his childhood hero a deflated, hollow man. 

The stereo plays soft, still.  _ God Only Knows. _ Of course. 

Pete leans his head back into the couch, ready to give up. But despite that, still he reaches for Billy’s hand to hold again. Reassurance, solidarity. 

“...I need another drink…” Billy says, falling into the crook of Pete’s arm. 

“Oh!!” Dean sits up suddenly, eyes wide, a finger pointing across the coffee table at them. “You two!! I knew it!”

“Wh—“ Pete stammers, as if this isn’t like, the tenth time this has happened to them.

“I gotta call Hank…” He reaches into his pocket, but immediately fumbles with and drops his phone. “Oh well…” Despite the mood, he smiles, bringing his knees to his chest, hugging them tight and resting his chin in between. “I’m...glad.”

Rusty twitches beneath them with the start of a drunken sleep. Relieved, they carefully climb off of him, settling a weighted blanket over his inert body instead. 

“I’m gonna get more...drink…” Dean says, passing by his sleeping father to press a palm to his head. “I gotta talk to you guys. I gotta tell someone…”

“Don’t tell me  _ we’re  _ clones too, kiddo,” Pete jests. Dean snorts and shakes his head, grabbing for gin and tonic. He’s just like his brother.

“No it’s...something I couldn’t tell my dad. So the clone thing came out instead.” Somber, he grips the bar to keep himself upright. Pete and Billy know it’s bad, know they should stop him, make him go to bed, but since when were they good role models? They can’t deny him this rare rebellion. He’s always been such a goody two-shoes.

“What is it, Dean?” Billy asks, dragging Pete back over to the barstools.

“I...I think I have a boyfriend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry bisexual Dean from my cold, dead fingers.
> 
> Let Rusty sleep. That is far better for him than Pete and Billy being terrible at helping him lol


End file.
